Forever Unlived
by notquitesane
Summary: (takes place the summer after book 4) Voldemort comes up with another wacky plan to kill Harry, and this time he makes sure it won't fail... or does he?


Disclaimer: These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made on any of these works and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Oh, and I don't own Coca-Cola, either.

A/N: Not much to say, except that this is my first fic, and that italicized text are dreams, thoughts, and memories.

***

Harry Potter was running.  He was running and running as fast as he could.  It didn't matter that he didn't know where he was.  He was not alone.  He had his mother's voice to guide him.  "Run, Harry, run as fast as you can," his mother's voice spoke to him. "You must leave this place as quickly as possible.  You are not safe here.  Go, now!" 

Harry sat up so fast that Hedwig, his owl, gave a loud screech of fright.  "It's okay, Hedwig, I didn't mean to scare you," said Harry in a reassuring sort of way.  "I just had a dream, that's all."

Harry stared out of his second-floor window at Number Four, Privet Drive.  He fixed his gaze on a tabby cat sitting on the brick wall outside.  For a second, he didn't realize what he was seeing, and looked away.  He did a double take.  He examined the cat more closely.  He noticed square markings around its eyes that looked oddly familiar.  That couldn't be… not Professor McGonagall?  He thought to himself.

Sure enough, there was no mistaking that stern appearance.  But why on earth would she be here?  On Privet Drive of all places?

The cat looked up at him meaningfully.  Harry got the idea.  He got out of bed and tiptoed to his dresser.  He opened a drawer and pulled out a thick, wool pair of socks.  He had a sudden flashback of the night in his first year of Hogwarts when the headmaster Albus Dumbledore had said he wanted socks, but people insisted on giving him books.  Harry smiled to himself.  Then he pulled on the socks.  These were sure to muffle the sound of his footsteps.  

He crept down the stairs and out of the door to the wall.  "Erm, Professor… you wanted to talk to me?"  He said, for the cat was there no more, but instead a severe-looking woman with her black hair drawn into a tight bun.

"Indeed I did, Potter," said Professor McGonagall.  "This may come as a, well, shock to hear," she pressed on.  Harry could tell she was choosing her next words carefully.

"The Dursleys are dead."

Though he loathed the Dursleys with all his might… they couldn't be dead.  Could they?  "Are you sure, Professor?"

"Yes, Potter, I am quite sure."

"But who—why—"

"We do not and will not know for sure unless more information is collected.  Professor Dumbledore has ensured a number of useful spies on the job."  She seemed anxious to get off the subject.  "Professor Dumbledore has spoken to the Weasleys and you are to stay with them until Sirius' name is cleared."

"You know about Sirius?  Who told you?  I swear, Professor, that night in my third year, he really was telling the truth, it was Pettigrew who betrayed my parents, and he's an ani—"

"Yes, yes, Potter I know.  I believe you."

"But how—"

"I have my sources," said Professor McGonagall, with a twinkle in her eye not unlike the one Professor Dumbledore sometimes had.  "You are to gather up your belongings and leave right away.  Come.  I have established a Portkey that will take us to the Burrow."

Professor McGonagall held out a crushed aluminum can labeled Coca-Cola.  "Do hurry up, Potter.  We have precisely 3.5 minutes before the Portkey is activated." 

Harry sprinted back into the house and up the stairs to his room.  He ran to his desk, grabbing some parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink.  He sprinted to his closet and dragged his trunk out.  He threw the items into his trunk.  He ran back to the closet to grab his broomstick.  He took Hedwig's cage and clambered down the stairs and out to the yard.  He stretched out a trembling hand to touch the Portkey.  He was numb with shock.  The Dursleys?  Dead?  Why had it been them and not him?

"Three… two… one…"

His thoughts were interrupted by an internal tug and quite suddenly he felt himself spinning and whirling in a mass of colors.  Then it stopped.  He staggered a bit but managed to stay on his feet.  He brushed himself off and looked around.  Professor McGonagall was standing a few feet away looking shaken, but behind her was a familiar seven-story teetering house with a sign hammered into the ground that read "The Burrow".  They walked up to the door together and Harry rang the magical doorbell.

Mrs. Weasley answered the door with a relieved expression.  "Harry! Minerva! You're safe!" she said, pulling both of them into a tight hug.  "Do come in.  I'll have the twins take your things up to Ron's room.  Fred!  George!  Come and help put Harry's trunk away!  Meanwhile, make yourselves at home."

"I wish I could stay, Molly, but I've got to run," said Professor McGonagall, and before anyone could say another word, she Disapperated.

She Apparated into a dark, deserted alley.  An impatient voice said, "Well?"

"I have fulfilled your commands, my Lord… I have lied to the Potter boy, telling him his Muggle relatives are dead and gone… the fool believed me."

"Good, good.  Step one is completed.  Next, we clear Black's name; the boy will undoubtedly want to go live with him.  Then, as your final test of devotion to me: you turn in Sirius Black, bring Potter to me, and I will receive the victory I have always dreamed of: killing Harry Potter.  Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

(Voldemort, muttering to himself) "Perhaps I'd better leave the Imperius Curse on her, just to be safe…"

*** Daily Prophet Article***

  
DEMENTORS MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEAR  
By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter

  
Yesterday afternoon, it was reported that the sightless, soul-sucking fiends called Dementors, guarders of Azkaban Wizard Prison Facility, have mysteriously disappeared. "I was on my daily inspection [of Azkaban] when I was told that they left," said Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

"They wouldn't just get up and walk—er, float away like that," said Percy Weasley, Assistant-in-Chief to Mr. Fudge, nervously. Then, in a whisper, he started to say, "I think it might have something to do with—" but was cut off by an extremely odd-acting Fudge, who elbowed Weasley in the ribs and tried to act as though he hadn't done anything by saying, "Oops—sorry—hand slipped," with a chuckle, but our reporters weren't fooled.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, on the other hand, said stubbornly, "I stand by what I have previously stated," and refused to elaborate on the subject.  We don't know how they disappeared, or why, but all we know is that we've got a real git for Minister of Magic.

—Your Faithful Correspondent, Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter

***Back at Privet Drive***

"What's with all the noise?  If it's that ruddy owl again…!" Vernon Dursley (A/N: Remember, he's not really dead!) bellowed, for he had heard all Harry's clamoring on the stairs. It was greatly annoying. Here he was, sleeping soundly (dreaming of drills, as a matter of fact) when he was woken up by a much unwelcome banging and clattering down the stairs. Uncle Vernon marched across the hall to Harry's room and kicked the door open, to find, of course, no Harry and no Hedwig. "Boy!" he shouted, for he always avoided saying Harry's name if he could help it. "Boy! I know you're in here somewhere. Just keep that ruddy owl subdued or she'll be chucked out before she can give a hoot! Is that clear?" he demanded, and stomped out of the room without waiting for an answer.

  
***Back at the Burrow***  
  


Harry Potter woke up in his best friend Ron Weasley's room to a clear, sunny day. He stretched, pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, and went down the stairs to breakfast. Then he saw something that made his heart leap. Standing, in the doorway, with a grin from ear to ear, was none other than Sirius Black. 

"Sirius!" said Harry, both shocked and happy. "What are you doing here? I mean, I'm happy to see you and all, but Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry and might get in trouble if you're here—"  
  
"Actually, I just got my name cleared."  
  
"What? Really? That's great! But how did you do it?"  
  
"Let's have a seat in the living room. I'll explain everything."

  
***Azkaban***  
  


Peter Pettigrew sulked in his small Azkaban cell, remembering how he got there in the first place.  
  
"Okay, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform a task for me, knowing you, being my most faithful Death Eater yet, will be only to happy to do."  
  
He couldn't be too excited, knowing that the last "task" Voldemort had asked him to perform involved chopping off his right hand.  Apparently it was a key ingredient in Voldemort soup.

"R-r-really, my Lord?" Peter replied cautiously.  "What is it?"  
  
"You must approach the Ministry of Magic and turn yourself in."  
  
"W-w-w-what? But I thought—"  
  
"Don't make this difficult for me, Wormtail. Do it, now."  
  
"But why, my Lord?"

  
"Because, fool, if you allow yourself to be 'caught' by the Ministry, then I will be one step closer to destroying Harry Potter!"  
  
"But I really don't understand—"  
  
"Do you dare challenge the word of Lord Voldemort?  Crucio!"  
  
Peter grimaced to himself, pacing his cell, remembering the pain, the pain that had consumed his entire body and seemed to eat his very soul alive. Remembering his reply, he grimaced once more.  
  
"Al-al-alright, i-i-if your Lordship wishes me to do so, then i-i-it will be done, m-my Lord."  
  
"Good, good. You finally came to your senses and agreed.  Sensible to do so, before more… extreme measures were taken. Go now, unless you would rather have a taste of the full wrath of Lord Voldemort…"  
  
Though there were no Dementors near (Ministry wizards guarded Azkaban now), Peter would not allow his mind to think of other, more pleasant memories. Instead, he forced himself to replay this horrible incident over and over in his head…

  
***Back at the Burrow***

  
"And now I'm free, if you still want to come live with me," Sirius finished the story of his release.  
  
"Of course I want to live with you! That is, if the Weasleys don't mind. You don't, do you?" he asked, looking up at Mrs. Weasley, for she and the rest of the family had trooped in to hear the story of Sirius' newly dropped charges.  
  
"Of course, dear, whatever makes you happiest," said Mrs. Weasley with a misty-eyed expression. "It has been a pleasure having you, Harry dear." She walked out of the room into the hallway, where the sound of a nose being blown could be heard. Harry felt slightly guilty to leave the Weasleys, after all they'd done for him, but he was going to live with Sirius, his godfather, his mom and dad's best friend! How cool was that?  
  


"When can I move in?" asked Harry hopefully.  
  


"How about tonight?" said Sirius.  
  


"Great!"  
  
Sirius looked thoughtful. "I suppose I'd better contact Remus."  
  
"Lupin?" Harry asked, looking startled. "How come?"  
  
"Well," said Sirius, "While I was on the run, the Ministry confiscated my house and tore it apart in the search for evidence that could be used against me. There is a restoration date set, of course, but if you want to move in right away, this needs some thinking about. I'll owl Remus and see if we can't stay at his place for a while."  
  


***Back at Azkaban***

Peter Pettigrew broke into a cold sweat as he heard two voices whispering outside his cell door.  
  
"Minister, the Kiss will be performed tomorrow tonight," Ministry wizard on guard, Percy Weasley, was whispering to Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. "The other Officials have contacted a Dementor and scheduled the Kiss."

"Good, good," came Fudge's reply.  "I'll see that the affairs are in order."

The two men walked briskly away.  Though they were gone, Peter could still hear their voices echoing in his head: "The Kiss… tomorrow night… a Dementor…"  Peter shuddered.  He fell into an uneasy sleep of dreams, knowing that they would be the last ones he would ever remember experiencing.  

***Voldemort's POV***  
  


With a small pop, I Apparated onto a quiet street.  It was dark out, and I heard nothing moving.  Quietly as I could, I approached the house I was looking for.  I decided to corner my victim and wait for him there.  As I drew nearer, the strangest sight met my eyes.  The house was there, but it wasn't there.  Technically, it was there, but… I raised my eyebrows in surprise as I took in everything: the door, lying on the ground, broken glass, bits of plaster everywhere… Sirius Black's house.  Destroyed.  This situation required quick thinking… I knew that Wormtail, Black, and James Potter had another friend in their school days.  That must be it.  Harry Potter and Sirius Black are staying with him, this mystery companion.  My stomach clenched as I turned to my last resort: Wormtail.

***Daily Prophet Article***

ESCAPE OF AZKABAN INMATE

By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter  
  


It appears that the real person responsible for the massacre of twelve Muggles that fine day 14 years ago, Peter Decimus Pettigrew, has escaped.  

"These gits at the Ministry are getting really lax in security," said a source that would like to remain anonymous.  

The Dementor's Kiss was scheduled for Pettigrew for tonight, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen.  Rumors say he went back for more of the protection of You-Know-Who—Oh, what the heck, VOLDEMORT.  Yeah, that's right, I wrote the name.  You got a problem with it, have your people call my people and we'll do lunch!

—Your Faithful Correspondent, Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter

***Peter Pettigrew's POV***

I woke up and saw it towering over me, 12 feet tall, gray, huge, and scaly.  I shrank back into the shadows as it used its strange powers to loosen the lock on the cell door.  Oh, God, I thought.  Please, not now.  I'm too young to have my soul sucked out through my mouth!  I closed my eyes, waiting but not ready for the thing that would deprive me of all reason to live.  After a while, the door was still open, and the Dementor was still standing there, as if waiting for me to get up and walk right out.  And I did.  And I was free.

***Dialogue between Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort***

"My Lord, I am forever in your debt for saving me from the Kiss, I cannot tell you how much I appre—"

"Save it for later, Wormtail.  I have another favor.  The reason I freed you."

Peter Pettigrew gulped nervously.  The last time his master had asked him for a 'favor', he had ended up in Azkaban.

"Y-y-yes, m-my Lord?"

"Name your three best friends who went to Hogwarts with you."

Warm, inexpressibly glorious relief swept over him.  "Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin, my Lord."

"Good, good.  Don't look too relieved.  That wasn't the favor I was going to ask."

Peter broke into a cold sweat.  

"Do you know where this 'Lupin' character lives?"

"Y-y-yes, I think so."

"Good.  Now, pay attention.  McGonagall had been showing signs of fighting the Imperius Curse I have placed on her.  I have already killed her, since she will no longer be available for use, which is why I must ask you this favor: I want you to go to Lupin's house, where Harry Potter and Sirius Black will be staying.  I will take care of the adults.  Then, you will bring me back the Potter boy.  Alive."

***Remus' Place***

"Welcome Harry, Padfoot old friend.  Make yourselves comfortable on the sofa while I go make some tea."  Remus Lupin walked briskly toward the direction of the kitchen.  When he got there, there was a shadowy figure standing over the sink.  Before he could make out whom it was, the figure spoke:

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Remus Lupin's arms and legs snapped together.  He fell, rigid, to the ground and lay there, unable to move or speak.

Hearing the crash, Sirius Black and Harry Potter both leapt to their feet.  "No, sit down.  Let me take care of this," said Sirius, darting into the kitchen.  

Harry, bewildered, sat down, only to hear another crash moments later.  "Er, Sirius?  Professor Lupin? Are you alright?"  He heard no reply, but pulled his feet up onto the couch in disgust as a rat crawled by.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" cried a voice suddenly, and Harry looked up to see the rigid figures of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black floating into the room, followed by the 'shadowy figure', which Harry now recognized as Lord Voldemort.  The rat, Harry thought.  That's no rat, how could I be so stupid as to not recognize—

He stood up and automatically reached into his jeans pocket for his wand, but alas, it was in his trunk, waiting to be unpacked with the rest of his things.

He thought he saw a flash of blue light out of the corner of his eye but before he could turn around, he found his arms and legs bound tightly together, not with the body-bind curse, but with a length of rope.

"Very nice, Wormtail.  I thank you," said Voldemort with a nasty smile.

"Let me go!" Harry said angrily, struggling with all his might.

There was a pause.

"Well, Wormtail, you heard the boy.  Untie him!"

Peter did as his master instructed.

"And now… kill him."

"Er, m-m-my Lord, why don't I dispose of the adults first?  It might be a bit easier, d-don't you th-th-think so?" said Peter hastily.

"No.  I want them to watch."

Over on the ground, Sirius and Remus gave each other horrified stares.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" demanded Voldemort.  "I said KILL HIM!"

"M-m-my Lord, haven't you always said you'd like to be the one to get rid of Harry Potter?  Maybe I should just let you—"

"Why in the world are you stalling?  Just kill him and be done with it!  You most certainly aren't starting to LIKE him, are you?"

Wormtail stood for a moment, trembling.  "Master!" he cried, flinging himself at Voldemort's feet.  "Master, I… I cannot kill him."

Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously.  "Why?  You know what, never mind.  All I needed to know is confirmed.  You are nothing.  You are a cowardly, no-good, very sad—no, pathetic—excuse for a Death Eater!" he said, voice barely above a whisper but in a tone that signified that every word was heard.  "Fine.  If you can't kill him, then I will.  Stand aside, Wormtail."

"Avada Kedavra!" he cried, just as Harry dived behind the couch.  The numerous pillows hit by the curse caused something of a hurricane of feathers.  In the confusion, Harry ran to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the tin, threw it in, and ran back over to the other side of the living room.  He grabbed Sirius and Remus by the ankles and dragged them across the room.  With a shove, he hoisted them both into the fireplace.  He leapt in, shouting, "The Burrow!"  With a great swirl, they tumbled out, soot and all, into the Weasley's kitchen.

***Voldemort's POV***

I couldn't see due to the mass of swirling feathers, and so I started to panic.  Imagine me, Lord Voldemort, most feared Dark Wizard for over a hundred years now, panicking.  This could not happen again.  He couldn't escape, not now, not when I had been so close!  "Avada Kedavra!  Avada Kedavra!  AVADA KEDAVRA!" I shouted, pointing my wand in all directions, hoping it would strike something… or someone.  I heard the thumps.  I heard the shout.  "The Burrow!" it said.  I didn't have to hear them leaving.  I didn't want to hear the triumph in his voice at having escaped me, yet again.  But I did.

***Peter Pettigrew's POV***

I trembled, huddled in a corner by what was left of the sofa.  I knew what this meant.  I knew this was the end.  I heard him coming toward me.  With every step he took, the ground shook.  Or maybe it was just in my mind.  All that I saw was him, my Lord, my protector, my very life force, coming toward me, growing ever closer, and then I heard his voice.  "It's just you and me now, Wormtail.  Just you and me."

*~*~*

A/N: So, whaddaya think?  I want to write a sequel for this… so reviews are muchly appreciated.


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